


An Alternative Cold War

by Ashynarr



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Cold War Era (obviously), Gen, Lots of America ranting about everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 18:10:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3456887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashynarr/pseuds/Ashynarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Cold War's been eating away at America for years now, and Russia showing up to taunt him provides the final push over the line he needs to really let loose on his feelings about everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Alternative Cold War

America slumped in his seat, a long sigh escaping his lips as he allowed his eyes to slide shut. He'd been feeling especially drained lately, his people's fear eating through his normal charismatic energy and his government's 'behind the door' policies eating at his confidence. Quite frankly, it'd been a shitty couple of years so far, and he knew that he was looking forward to many, many more like them.

Another sigh escaped him, his eyes opening again to stare blankly at the documents requesting yet more funding for the military and weapon productions. Was this what he was really being reduced to? A frightened military state ready to lash out at anyone who so much as looked at him funny? Where was the liberty and justice in that?

Why had he let himself get talked out of isolation again? He couldn't even remember anymore…

The door behind him opened; America didn't even bother looking, figuring it was just his boss or some other politician making sure he was working. Quite frankly, if they wanted to complain right now, they could just go fuck themselves - he seriously wanted a vacation.

Preferably in the most isolated part of his country he could manage.

Steps came to a muffled stop behind him, right before the cool touch of metal tapped lightly against the side of his head.

"I see you aren't even trying to be cautious, Amerika," Russia's voice echoed his amusement, leaving America with a clear view of his annoying smirk even without turning around to look.

"I'm not in the mood to deal with your shit right now," America told him bluntly, keeping his eyes shut just in case it'd get the other to go away. "Go back to your side of the ocean."

"How rude, and after I come all this way to see you," The communist Nation chastised. "You really should be more polite to guests."

"Fine; would you  _please_  fuck off so I can get back to more important things?"

Russia hummed in amusement. "You sound upset, Amerika; does my own Friendship Treaty worry you so? Are you bothered that your NATO might be threatened?"

"Worried? Bothered?" America wasn't sure where it came from, but by the time he'd turned to stare at Russia a bubble of slightly hysterical laughter had bubbled up from somewhere inside his chest, leaving him teary eyed and aching by the time he was finally able to calm down enough to see his enemy's concerned expression. "You really don't get it yet, do you?"

"Get what?" Russia asked defensively, frowning down at the capitalist Nation.

"This whole mess we're in - this entire fucking Cold War - is just some sick joke kept going by the mutual fears of our countries." America laughed bitterly at his enemy's confused expression before continuing. "What, do you seriously think this is still about protecting ourselves from each other? Do you really think we're ever gonna fight at the rate we're going?"

"I think you are being a bit cracked in the head." Russia told him, holding his pipe close to his chest.

America threw his arms out, not even bothering to stand up from his seat. "I'm probably the only fucking sane person left around here, but who even knows, I might've snapped ages ago and not even noticed."

"We've fought several times already. Are you just ignoring those, or have you slipped that far?"

"You mean in Korea?" America tilted his head back to stare Russia in the eye, eyebrow raised. "You mean that place where we gave each side weapons and a few of our people to lead them and had them kill each other off for a couple of years for basically nothing?"

"They chose to fight."

"Yeah, after how much bullying? Do you not remember us agreeing to divide the place in two before setting up governments we knew from the start would hate each other enough to go to war as soon as we gave them the okay?"

The Russian pressed his lips together, but did not deny the statement, seeing as there had been no net win for either side by the time the armistice treaty had been signed.

The American rubbed at his face, all amusement gone in favor of exhaustion. "When was the last time you actually thought about your government's policies? Not the propaganda or the claims or anything else, but what they actually have done and are doing."

"I am part of my country's government, you know." Russia reminded him.

"All of us are, dipshit, you think I don't know that?" America rolled his eyes. "Have you actually paid attention to how everything they do affects your people directly, and how the government seems to be more focused on keeping itself in power than actually taking care of the people it's supposed to represent?"

"My leaders are maintaining our state so that when your economy crumbles to ashes we will rise to stand over you in glorious victory." The Slavic Nation bristled, spitting out the words like a broken jukebox.

"Yeah yeah, destroy capitalism, down with the bourgeois, yada yada yada. How many people has that policy killed so far? One hundred million? Two hundred? How many more of your people are you willing to crush through your system before they get sick of your party's bullshit? I'm shocked they aren't yet, with the drain you have to be feeling with no new resources or nonmilitary innovation since the party took over."

Russia glowered at him. "You say that like you have not killed your own people as well."

"You mean the Natives?" America shrugged. "Yeah, my government screwed them over, and yeah, I probably have a death count similar to yours, but mine was over a few centuries, while you only took, what, twenty years maybe?"

The American finally stood, his several inches under his enemy somehow not seeming so significant now. "I'm not denying my policies are just as bullshit as yours - I was supposed to to be a land of equal opportunities, and look where I've gotten! A new upper class who might as well be the same nobility that crushed any sort of meaningful progress and distribution of wealth in Europe for centuries. Minorities who are getting pissed off at the lack of government interest in actually enforcing their own damned equality laws and starting to stir for rebellion and protests. Government officials who do nothing but invest money into war without concern for our future at all, while signing more and more bills into law restricting what my people can and cannot do for 'safety reasons'."

America turned to Russia with a sigh, smiling bitterly at his confusion. "Honestly, our governments aren't all that different at the core of things; they squawk the same, shit the same, and pretend to care about the war while filling their own pockets with the country's wealth."

The Slavic Nation said nothing, looking down to his pipe as if it could answer his silent questions before rising to settle on the younger man again. "You do not sound happy with your boss."

America snorted. "Are you?"

"My boss is a strong leader."

"That's not what I asked. Are your people happy?"

Russia blinked. "Chto?"

"Are your people happy?"

Russia hesitated for just a second before replying. "Of course."

"Bullshit, I saw you think about it." America shook his head. "You honestly still believe anyone is happy right now? Our people are terrified of nuclear war, and so's the rest of the goddamned planet that knows enough to care."

"My people are not afraid to die for the cause."

America pressed his lips together as he stared at his enemy. "Fine. Let's duke it out then, right here, right now. Winner takes all."

Russia frowned, fingers tapping against his pipe. "You bluff."

"Do I look like I'm bluffing?" America threw his arms out, expression dead serious. "Man the fuck up and fight me, Russia, since you're so eager to win this war."

The Slavic Nation did not reply for a long time, staring America down in a mockery of their countries' staring contest, waiting for the other to blink first.

"...Nyet."

"Excuse me? I don't speak commie." America's arms came back together over his chest, foot tapping impatiently.

Russia shook his head, not letting his gaze slide away. "I will not fight you."

"Why not? I thought you said your country would win if it came down to a fight."

"There would be no winners in that fight." Russia replied quietly.

America's expression softened all at once, sympathy swelling in him at the defeated look in his enemy's eyes. "No there wouldn't be, would there?"

The room grew quiet, neither of them willing to ask what they would do now. All of Russia's confidence seemed to have drained from his form, leaving him looking about as exhausted as America felt. The war had been eating at him just as much, then, even if he couldn't admit to it.

For the first time in ages, the younger Nation saw his old friend, who'd stood up for him when everyone else had been waiting to see him collapse from the inside. Why hadn't America done more during Russia's own Civil War?

"...I miss when we were friends." America eventually told him quietly, surprised at the honesty of his statement even as it left his lips.

Russia jerked his head up to stare at him, but did not reply, eventually nodding quietly before turning and leaving, his boots muffled on the carpet as he disappeared down the hall. It was a wonder he'd even gotten in without alerting anyone, but America hardly felt worried about the other causing trouble after their talk.

He'd said his piece. Now it was up to Russia to decide for himself whether this war was really all it was cracked up to be.

God, he could use a nap right about now.

(A few months later, when the news of the first test rocket launch to space reached his ears at the same time a private letter asking if he were interested in a friendly race hit his desk, the first hint of a genuine smile in ages tugged at America's lips.

Maybe things would turn out alright after all.)

**Author's Note:**

> …umm… so, funny story… I was going through early km stuff cause I wanted to write something generally short and self-indulgant for myself, only to run across this 'Warsaw Pact' prompt. And, since it was the Cold War, I naturally got to thinking about all the issues going on on both sides at the time,and somehow I thought of what would happen if Alfred became disillusioned with the whole thing early on, and then…
> 
> well, I don't know WHAT to call this, to be honest. Possibly a rant fic, if you want to look at this that way.
> 
> …enjoy?


End file.
